Show Me Your Stats!

Ayra stared intently at Janus’s skin. Her hands itched with curiosity, desperate to understand why such an unbelievable number was displayed. She wanted to run all kinds of experiments on Janus immediately. Unfortunately, her test subject was far from some lowly slave she could order around in a labyrinth.

Janus, ever sensitive, seemed to pick up on the suspicious nature of her gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, I was just wondering... Earlier, you just took down the Ocampania like it was nothing. Compared to other mercenaries, just how strong are you?"

Since she couldn’t experiment on him outright, Ayra decided to ask instead. Janus, preoccupied with rubbing warmth back into his cold body, responded lazily.

"Pretty strong."

"Pretty strong how? Compared to me?"

"Not sure. If you really went all out with your magic, I might have a bit of a hard time. But in terms of pure physical strength, well... you're tiny."

Janus held up his fingers and pinched them together to indicate just how small. Then, his gaze met Ayra’s. Her eyes were glowing so brightly that she’d completely forgotten about her earlier fatigue or drowsiness.

This man, who was so indulgent toward his lovers, suddenly spread his arms wide and said,

"Go ahead, hit me."

"Really? Then, I’ll hit you."

Ayra didn’t hesitate and eagerly accepted his offer. But just in case it might lower his favorability, she first tested the waters by giving his thigh a light slap with her palm.

Janus let out an amused snort, as if to say, Really?

"You joking?"

Alright. That definitely meant she could hit him for real, right? Feeling a bit excited now, Ayra clenched her fist and punched Janus’s thigh as hard as she could.

Janus didn’t budge an inch, standing there as if humoring a child’s tiny fist.

"That tickles."

Just as he said, even in the Stat Window, his HP showed no noticeable change.

So that meant she could hit harder, right? Ayra hesitated for a moment, checking Janus’s reaction.

"Can I hit you a little harder?"

"It doesn’t really hurt, so go ahead and hit as hard as you want."

"I’m really gonna hit hard this time. You won’t get mad, right?"

"I swear I won’t get mad. Just do it."

Having secured permission, Ayra’s eyes sparkled as she reached into her subspace inventory and pulled something out. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} With a loud thunk, a steel ball, about the size of a fist, dropped onto the ground—an ordinary tool used for durability testing.

Janus, who had been relaxed until now, visibly hesitated.

Meanwhile, Ayra lifted the steel ball into the air with magic and gave an awkward smile.

"It’s smaller than Ocampania’s fang, right? And I’m kind of low on mana right now, so it shouldn’t be that strong."

Honestly, she couldn't say she didn’t hold a little grudge against Janus for waking up the Ocampania horde and sending them charging.

Up until the moment Ayra took out the steel ball, Janus had been smiling nonchalantly. But when the ball started slowly spinning in midair, the corner of his lips stiffened. Soon, it began whirling fiercely between Ayra’s hands.

Receiving force from multiple angles, the ball would shoot off in the direction where energy was released, striking with enough impact to crush whatever was in its path.

Alright, let's see... A rotation speed of about 30 per second should do.

It was slightly stronger than a fan on its highest setting. Even that much was already draining her mana.

After finalizing the settings, Ayra glanced at Janus one last time, out of a faint sense of conscience. Her gaze asked, Are you really sure about this?

Janus scratched his cheek, then grinned and tapped his own stomach.

"Alright. If we’re doing this, let’s do it properly. Aim here."

...Was it really okay to fire this at a person? And at such a vital spot, no less?

But he was the one who confidently said it was fine. Besides, his endurance—or rather, his sheer physical ability—was on another level.

Ayra hesitated. Within her stormy gray eyes, the curiosity of a mage and the reasoning of a normal person clashed at breakneck speed.

For a fleeting moment, she wavered.

In the end, the slightly unhinged mage inside her won.

Most of the common sense from her past life had already been overwritten by labyrinthian logic. She had to know what that ridiculous HP number actually meant.

She decided to trust the 9,999,999 HP.

At last, the violently spinning steel ball shot forward with a loud thud, slamming directly into Janus’s solar plexus before dropping to the ground with a heavy clunk.

For the first time since they’d met, Janus—who had never so much as flinched before—actually bent forward slightly.

Was he seriously hurt? Ayra tensed, watching carefully.

Janus furrowed his brow.

"Oh. That one actually packed a bit of a punch."

He rubbed at his abdomen a couple of times—and that was it.

Completely fine.

Ayra immediately checked his HP in the Stat Window.

9,999,134.

Considering the average person’s HP was around 1,000, that kind of damage would’ve been enough to inflict severe injuries—or even death—on a normal human.

Janus was the one who got hit, yet it was Ayra—who had completely drained her mana earlier rescuing the villagers—who felt utterly exhausted again. Her eyelids grew heavier with sleep.

Even so, she was thrilled by the valuable experiment results.

Being able to verify HP numerically... this is going to be insanely useful for future experiments!

Still grinning dizzily like a drunk, Ayra staggered toward the star of her experiment. She rolled up his thin shirt to check if her ideal test subject—no, Janus—had really suffered no injuries.

The spot where the steel ball had struck was only faintly red. No swelling, no internal bleeding, no distended abdomen.

Acting like a proper professional, she carefully prodded the area with her fingertips. Underneath the smooth skin, firm muscles greeted her touch.

Everything seemed normal, but just in case, she asked,

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not okay."

Startled by his response, Ayra looked up—only for Janus to grab her hand.

Then, he guided it down.

Between his legs.

"This is where it hurts."

Ayra sucked in a sharp breath.

If a person’s... part could be quantified numerically, then based on what she was feeling in her palm, it had to be exactly 9,999,999.

Even worse, the moment her hand made contact, the heavy object in her grasp began swelling and hardening.

Completely paralyzed, Ayra stammered,

"W-Why are you getting hard all of a sudden?"

Janus smirked, pressing his growing problem against her stiff fingers.

"I’ve always been the type to get turned on from getting hit."

His crimson eyes gleamed ominously.

As his weighty arousal rubbed against her unsteady hand, Ayra’s face went completely pale.

For some reason, the longer she knew Janus, the harder he was becoming to handle...

"You're into hitting too, aren’t you? I mean, you even used a tool."

"No!"

Being treated like a pervert by Janus was utterly unfair. If there really was someone out there who got excited from hitting people with steel balls, that person would undoubtedly be the most deranged deviant to ever exist.

"Or is it the other way around?" Janus mused. "Either way, it's fine. To be honest, I get turned on when I hit people too."

Horrified, Ayra flailed, trying to yank her hand away from Janus’s crotch, but in her panic, she ended up tumbling forward. Already exhausted, slamming her head into his solid body left her momentarily dazed.

"I don’t enjoy hitting or getting hit!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Anyway, looks like you're done with all your business."

No matter what she said, Janus wasn’t giving up on the idea of sleeping with her. His large hand gently caressed her cheek before effortlessly scooping up her wavering, half-collapsing body. As he carried her toward the bed, he leaned in and kissed her—not forcefully, but with an undeniable urgency.

To be honest, she didn’t hate it.

As long as there was no hitting or getting hit, Ayra didn’t think it would be the worst thing in the world to sleep with this man, just once. Considering how skilled he had been in the igloo, it didn’t seem like even that monstrous thing of his would make it an entirely unbearable experience.

The real problem, however, was that Ayra was exhausted—completely, utterly drained.

Lying on the soft bed, being touched by his heated hands, feeling his lips and tongue pressing against hers—it wasn’t arousing in the slightest. If anything, it felt like someone had placed a giant, heated electric blanket over her body.

The more he caressed her, the heavier her eyelids became. Even the strength in her hands, which had been gripping onto him, gradually faded.

Janus, realizing she was slipping into unconsciousness, abruptly halted his movements.

"...What the hell? You’re joking, right? Are you seriously falling asleep?"

"Mmgh... Later... later... We have to leave early tomorrow...."

Ayra barely managed a response, her voice sluggish with sleep.

A frustrated sigh echoed in the distance.

For a moment, something about it sent a chill down her spine. But she was simply too exhausted to care.

"Next time, even if you pass out, I won’t let it slide."

...Wait, was that some kind of terrifying warning?

But before she could process it, the weight pressing down on her disappeared. She could still feel his scorching gaze lingering on her, but it didn’t stop her from passing out completely.

Just before losing consciousness, a fleeting thought crossed her mind.

If that absurd 9,999,999 stat wasn’t just some lazy mistake by Stone, and if it wasn’t a bug but actually real...

Could a being like that even be called human?